Minutes to Bell Time

Graphic Endings – Minute’s Peril

The Dropkick Journal Presents Graphic Endings

Graphic Endings is a Minutes to Bell Time project. This is Chapter 6 of Graphic Endings – Minute’s Peril. New chapters come out each Tuesday. Follow the Minutes to Bell Time Instagram to get an announcement each Tuesday.  

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Graphic Endings Chapter 6: Minute’s Peril

I’m On The Mat


I remember hearing myself hit the mat. I remember seeing stars and then darkness. When I woke up, I could hear Bell Time celebrating. He was yelling at the crowd, but I couldn’t make out his words.

The crowd was both silent and deafening at the same time. How long was I out? Was the match over? Did I get beat that fast? I’m not able to move yet, but I can hear the referee.

I slowly open my eyes. The referee is close. Maybe just an inch from my face, but I can’t see him clearly. He had my hand in his.

“Minute, can you go? If you don’t answer me, I’m stopping the match.” He paused briefly, “That’s it! I’m calling for the bell.”

I squeezed the referee’s hand. That’s a signal we use to tell the referee we’re OK. He stopped short and looked back at me. “Are you sure?”

Truth be told, a wiser man would have let the ref call for the bell. I’ll be wise when I’m old. Today I want to be champion. I just squeezed his hand again.

“I’m going to count. You have until 10. Do you understand?”

I squeezed and waited for the count to start. The crowd was no longer silent. I could hear them gasping. Apparently, they thought it was over too.

I’m Hearing the Count

One . . .

I heard Bell Time laugh. It was loud, so he must have been close.

Two . . .

I’m going to have start moving, but I have a few more seconds.

Three . . .

I think I can stand.

Four . . .

Bell Time started to harass the ref, “Have mercy! He hasn’t moved. Why bother with the count. Just call for the bell.”

Five . . .

My head . . . it’s splitting. The force of that clothesline put me down so fast. He caught me so hard across the chest and throat. That was fine, but it took me off my feet and I landed on the back of my head.

Six . . .

The referee paused the count to say. “Come on Minute! I’m at seven.”

Seven . . .

The Gorilla Press slam was among the hardest slams I’ve ever taken. I landed face first, but high on my forehead. I can’t believe Bell Time didn’t cover me because I was knocked out.

Eight . . .

I’m going to stand. I rolled over and pushed myself up to my knees. I lifted my head as the ref counted . . .

Nine . . .

As Bell Time advanced on my position, I heard him call out, “Watch out ref! Get out of the way.”

I’m Up

I felt a searing pain in my neck as Bell Time grabbed me by the head and yanked me to my feet. To my surprise, my legs held me up or was it Bell Time. He held my face in his hands and got right in my face. Almost a whisper, he said “Why didn’t you give up. You’re a fool. This whole thing is a mockery of the sport. You never had a chance against me.”

For some reason, he let me go. I fell straight back to the mat, and I think Bell Time left the ring. Someone later told me that he grabbed the championship belt from the time keeper.

The next thing I knew, the referee started his count again. My head was clearing, but I was sore from being whipped around by my head.

The referee was coming up on six when I felt Bell Time’s hands around my wrists.

“Come on Bell Time! Just wait for the count! This thing should be over!”

The referee’s plea for mercy was thoughtful, but not inspiring.

Bell Time lifted me up and pushed me against the ropes. I could feel the cables against my shoulder blades. All of a sudden I thought someone shot me in the chest. The smack was so loud. The pain started in the center of my chest and quickly spread to my shoulders and stomach. Bell Time had hit me with open hand palm strike. I threw up in my mouth.

The chop sent electricity through my body. While unintended for sure, Bell Time snapped me out of the daze. My eyes shot open as I gasped for air. And I began to wake up.

I’m Awake

I felt him push me hard against the ropes, he pushed his chest against mine, and then he yanked my wrist and whipped me across the ring.

My muscle memory took over as I hit the ropes on the far side of the ring and came back. I made a guess that Bell Time would try to him me with another clothesline, so I ducked. No impact, so I’m doing good and picking up speed.

I kept evading Bell Time maybe four times. He kept chasing, and I could hear his breathing. The crowd started to pick up . . . and I timed it perfectly. With one last bounce off the ropes, I came back and hit Bell Time with a stiff dropkick right on the jaw.

When Bell Time fell to the mat, the crowd exploded. I backed up to the other side of the ring, ran full speed, and kicked Bell Time right in the face.

I heard the ringside commentary team scream out, “PK! PK! PK! Minute just hit Bell Time with a P FREAKING K! And NOW! AND NOW DAVID’s STONE FOOT HAS SWUNG THE TIDE! GOLIATH is in TROUBLE!”

PK stands for Penalty Kick, and I must have caught him hard.

I was still a bit dizzy, but energy was flowing into my body with every passing millisecond. When looking down at Bell Time, I saw a dazed expression come across his face. I hit him with a second penalty kick and heard him hit the mat with a thud.

Things were turning around, but I knew it would take more to secure a pinfall. I wasn’t finished.

Next Week

Find out if Minute can sustain the advantage or if Bell Time takes back over.

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